Miscommunication
by Dakota Kent
Summary: All Melinda really wants to do is stay in bed and get over this cold, but a pushy ghost has other ideas. Set before Jim does his whole body jumping thing.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

"Here we go," said Jim. He walked into the bedroom carrying a warm bowl of soup. "Just what the paramedic ordered."

Melinda tried to thank him as he set the bowl on her bedside table, but she only succeeded in sneezing.

"I'll bring you more when you've finished this."

"Ugh, I don't think I'll even be able to finish this much soup. I'm not very hungry."

Jim placed his hand on Melinda's forehead to check her temperature. Still on the toasty side. "You need to eat something. Please just try?"

Melinda looked up into his concerned face and knew she'd force down a hoagie right now if he asked. She smiled and shook her head in amusement.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing, now let me eat my soup!" She pretended to sound annoyed.

Jim chuckled and took a seat at the foot of the bed and watched Melinda attempt to eat something.

"When do you have to leave?"

Jim didn't like the fact that he had to work tonight. Melinda was strong, but stubborn. He knew his wife well and he knew that she'd be tempted to make use of her "down time" by cleaning the house or attempting to work from home instead of resting. He wanted to be home to make sure she remained in bed.

"I need to head out pretty soon. You sure you don't need anything else before I go?"

"I'll be fine," Melinda insisted. "You bought me a whole pile of magazines--"

Melinda paused to say "Thanks for waiting in line with a stack of girly magazines by the way," which made Jim laugh.

"And," she continued, pointing at her bedside table, "I've got movies to watch. You really don't need to worry."

"I can't help it. I'm your husband and I want to take care of you."

"And you've done a marvelous job, but I'll probably fall asleep soon anyway, so go to work."

"Okay." Jim leaned over to give her a kiss but Melinda ducked out of it.

"Hello, I'm all germy!"

Jim gave her an are-you-serious look. "Mel, we sleep in the same bed. If I was going to get sick it would've happened by now."

Melinda shrugged and was only too happy to kiss him. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Jim turned back to her when he got to the door. "Stay in bed," he ordered gently. "I'll try not to wake you when I get home."

"Please do," Melinda called after him. "I like to know you're home."


	2. Chapter 2

Not even half way through the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants--which Jim had thoughtfully rented for her--Melinda began to drift.

She was at that in-between stage; not quite asleep but not quite conscious. The part of slumber where dreams seem like reality and vice versa.

The dream man wasn't very old. In his mid-thirties, about 5'9", blonde hair, wearing a business suit. He was moaning intently, as if willing Melinda to understand what he couldn't say.

Melinda was startled fully awake by the telephone ringing. She instantly sat up in bed and looked around for the man. Failing to see him anywhere in the room, Melinda let out a sigh of relief, glad to not have _that_ kind of company at the moment.

She fumbled in the darkness before finding the phone. "Hello?"

"Hi, sweetheart." Jim's voice brought a smile to her lips. "Sorry if I woke you, but I wanted to check-in. Feeling any better?"

"Not yet, but I think I was having a weird dream, so thanks for rescuing me."

"You think? Have you had any 'visitors' tonight?"

"Not that I've been awake for…" her train of thought drifted off when she caught sight of the magazines she had been looking forward to reading. They were now piled haphazardly on the floor, some flipped open to reveal pages with holes where letters used to be.

"Melinda?"

On her night stand, where the magazines had previously been neatly stacked, was a note made up of the letters and words that had gone missing from the magazine pages.

"Mel, you still there?"

"Uh, yeah, sorry. I guess I zoned out for a minute."

"Is everything alright?"

"Uh-huh," she said somewhat distractedly.

Jim was silent for a moment, assessing her tone of voice to decide if he needed to worry or not. It was probably the effects of the cold, so why did he feel as if Melinda wasn't telling him something?

"I'll be home soon. Charlie said he could cover part of my shift, so keep resting and tell any ghosts that come along not to bother you until you're better."

Melinda laughed. "Will do."

"Good, see you soon."

"'Kay. Bye."


	3. Chapter 3

Hanging up the phone, Melinda reached over and picked up the paper on which the letters had been arranged. "Guess it wasn't a dream after all."

As she moved it, all of the letters, having only been placed on the paper and not glued down, slipped off onto the floor.

"Damn." Melinda clicked the lamp on and stared down at the floor. Just a pile of letters next to the pile of magazines. No words from the note had survived the fall.

"Hello?" She called out softly. "If you're still here, I can help you."

No response.

"Well, if you're sure you don't need my help right now, then it'd be great if you could come back later. Like after I can breathe through my nose and have gotten more than three hours of sleep at a time."

Melinda waited a few more minutes, but when the man in the suit didn't return, she re-stacked the magazines and threw the letters into the bathroom garbage. If the ghost wasn't going to be a bother, then there was no sense in telling Jim about him being there. No need to worry him at this point.

* * *

When Jim arrived home around 5a.m., Melinda was sleeping. He was careful not to wake her. He settled into their bed and Melinda snuggled close, her body heat warming him instantly.

Jim noted that she still had a slight fever, but as long as she got some sleep, recovery would soon follow.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and relaxed into this pillow, more than ready to fall asleep himself.

Melinda was awoken by muffled moans. She cracked her eyes open and looked at the clock. 8:45 a.m. Glancing over her shoulder at her sleeping husband, she was careful not to jostle him as she got out of bed.

As the moaning grew clearer, so did the blonde man in the suit. Melinda got a better look at the ghost when he came into view. His gray suit was torn in several places as if he'd been in a struggle, and he had angry red marks all around his throat.

He stood in front of her, gesturing urgently, trying to speak.

Melinda tied together the ghost's inability to speak with the marks on his throat.

"Were you strangled?"

The ghost nodded impatiently and pointed to himself and then pointed out the window, indicating he wanted her to go somewhere with him.

"I don't know what you want. I couldn't read the message you left me. Maybe if you tried again--"

Melinda's words were abruptly cut-off when her throat began to constrict. She felt as if there were a pair of invisible hands around her neck gripping tightly. She sucked in as much air as she could and called out for help.

"Ji…Jim!"

Jim woke up to the sound of his wife coughing and gasping for air. He was at her side in an instant. Holding her up and rubbing her back he urged her to breathe.

"Come on sweetheart, you're alright. Deep breaths."

Jim moved them over to sit on the edge of the bed, still stroking Melinda's back soothingly to calm her down.

"Mel, what happened?"

Melinda looked to where the ghost had been standing only seconds ago. The space was now empty.

Still shaken, it took her a while to answer. "I…he….It was a ghost, he's back."

"Back?"

"He was here last night, when you called me." Jim understood why she had been acting so strangely during their conversation. "I didn't tell you because I didn't think he'd come back to soon and I didn't want to worry you."

Melinda silently cursed the ghost for his wonderful timing.

"Well, I think it's time you tell me." Despite the aggravation and resentment he felt for the ghost showing on his face, Melinda detected a tone of relief in his voice.

She nodded her head and sighed. This morning was not off to the best start.


	4. Chapter 4

Having told Jim all she knew about the ghost who had died of strangulation, Melinda went downstairs to fix them breakfast. Actually, she still didn't feel well enough to eat a big meal, but she figured Jim deserved it because of his patience and understanding.

It still amazed Melinda how lucky she was to have this incredible, loving, handsome man in her life. Standing over the stove, caught up in her musings, she didn't know Jim had entered the kitchen until he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind.

"Smells good. You feeling better?"

"A little," she said just before turning away from the eggs she was scrambling to sneeze. She turned back to Jim who had an amused look on his face. "I guess I've got some progress to make, though. But these aren't for me, I wanted to make you breakfast as a way to apologize for keeping you out of the loop. I really am sorry. Am I forgiven?"

Jim looked down into her beautiful, apologetic face. "Of course I forgive you." He gave her a smile and took the plate of eggs, bacon, and toast she offered. "But the food helps."

Melinda smacked him on the back as he went to sit at the counter.

"So," he began between bites of food, "this ghost hasn't been able to tell you what he wants because he can't speak, and you're getting the impression that whatever he does need is urgent."

"Yeah, the energy surrounding him is anxious and eager. I feel as if he's in a hurry." Her brow furrowed in thought. "I've never encountered a ghost who _can't _communicate with me before. He must've used a lot of his energy to create that note, so until he's strong enough to visit me again…."

"I don't like it, Mel. An impatient ghost just doesn't sound safe to me."

Melinda looked across the counter at her husband. "He hasn't done anything to hurt me."

Jim shot her a look.

"I mean, I don't think he _meant_ to hurt me. He was just trying to convey his message the only way he could. Besides, it's like I said, it'll take him time to build-up more energy, so if the space between his last two visits are any indication, I'm not expecting him to pop in anytime soon."

"Is that a hint?" Jim got up to rinse his plate and Melinda turned to keep him in her sight.

"Yes. It means you can go into town to take care of whatever business you need to." She finished her sentence with a sniffle, her stuffy nose making itself known.

Jim reached past her to the box of tissue sitting on the counter. Handing her the last one, he held up the empty box. "The business I have to take care of. Also, we're out of cough syrup and soup."

Melinda make a gagging noise. "Please, no more soup!"

"Complain all you'd like," he said, guiding her towards the stairs, "but I'm telling you, soup works."

"Ha. This coming from a paramedic."

"Many a childhood cold was made well by soup. Ask my mom."

Melinda rolled her eyes but let him walk her to the stairs. More sleep sounded good right about now.

She paused by the front door to watch Jim put on his jacket and grab his keys.

"I'll be back soon. Call my cell if you need anything."

"Will do." Turning to head upstairs, she felt Jim pull her back around to face him, a serious look on his face.

"Promise you'll call if Mr. Impatient shows up again."

"I promise." She gave him a reassuring kiss and went upstairs to rest until he returned home. With more soup. Ugh!


	5. Chapter 5

Melinda trudged tiredly upstairs thinking about all the work she needed to get done.

_Laundry, inventory, check for estate sales _was running through her mind when she knew all she was able to accomplish as the moment was taking a nap.

Jim, being the best husband in the world, would take care of things around the house, and Delia was more than capable of handling the store, but Melinda knew she'd go stir crazy any day now if she wasn't able to get back to her life before flu season had made her its next victim.

Stepping into the bedroom, Melinda gazed longingly at her bed, but knew rest wasn't going to be an option because something felt off; and Melinda had a sinking feeling she knew what it was.

Before she saw her most recent ghostly visitor, he made his presence known.

Clothes flew out of the closet, landing on the bed. Shoes soon followed, stopping only once they hit her dresser. Not feeling that his point had yet been made, he sent her car keys zipping towards her head.

Ducking before any damage could be done, Melinda popped up--a little too quickly judging by the black spots that appeared before her eyes--from her crouching position and laid into her frenzied phantom.

"Hey! What's your problem? Seriously, what's your problem? Because so far you've done about zilch to clue me in, yet our lack of progress is evidently my fault. Well, here I am so let's do this."

She felt a little guilty for lambasting the guy, but enough with the inconvenient appearances.

Blondie materialized next to the bed and pointed to Melinda's dresser, somewhat exasperatedly, to a stack of papers Melinda had never seen before.

Making sure it wasn't another one of his attempts at creating a note since that hadn't really worked out before, Melinda picked up the top paper and saw it was a business proposal drawn up by Ray Willis and addressed to Pitzer Enterprises.

"Ray Willis. Is that you?"

The ghost shook his head and urged her to read on. Flipping to the next paper, Melinda read a handwritten note from Ethan Foster to Ray Willis explaining that their business dealings with Pitzer Enterprises had fallen through.

"You're Ethan Foster?" She got a nod from the ghost. "Ray Willis was your business partner?" Melinda looked up to see him nod again, then she continued to look through the remaining papers. Ethan's situation was explained to her through personal notes, emails, and financial statements.

"Your business was going under and your attempts to sell failed. Your business partner blamed you. He killed you." Melinda didn't wait for Ethan to respond, she knew she was correct.

Deciding he'd been patient long enough, Ethan's gestures became demanding again, he still wanted her to go somewhere.

Melinda went to the phone and dialed Jim's cell to tell him what she needed to do, only there was no dial tone.

"That's weird." Melinda picked up her cell phone instead. She looked down at the blank screen, her cell unresponsive. She cocked an eyebrow at Ethan but knew she wouldn't get anywhere until she helped him.

Dressing quickly (in the bathroom) and retrieving her car keys (from the floor), Melinda considered stalling for time until Jim could get back, but any plans of that ended when a pillow whopped her upside the head.

"Okay, okay, I can take a hint. Were you this bossy when you were alive?"

**I know it's short but I'll have more soon. Perhaps not as entertaining as the previous chapters (at least I hope they're entertaining!), but this chapter needed to happen so the rest of the story can be told. Thanks for the reviews and messages. They give me such a warm, fuzzy feeling:)**


	6. Chapter 6

Once in the car, Melinda followed directions from Ethan as he sat in the front passenger seat and pointed whenever a turn came up he wanted her to take.

Ethan was still blocking her cell from turning on, not wanting any distractions. He'd worked this hard to finally get her help and wasn't going to let anything stop him.

They were now on a back road leading away from Grandview. Melinda reached up to wipe her fever-damp forehead, clicking the air conditioner another notch to the cool side. As much as she wanted to help Ethan, she also wanted to go home and curl up in bed.

Slowing when Ethan indicated, Melinda looked out her window to see a car pulled off the road and a man, whom she presumed to be Ray Willis--Ethan's former partner.

She turned to Ethan, but he was no longer in the car. He was standing outside watching as Willis unloaded a heavy, tarp covered object from the trunk. Melinda's stomach lurched. He was disposing of Ethan's body.

Melinda quietly stepped out of her car, not wanting to startle a known murderer.

She came to an abrupt stop when Ethan breathed a sigh of relief next to her.

"Finally. Now I won't be forgotten." He looked up, feeling Melinda's confused gaze on him.

"Work was my life. I had no family, no real friends except for Ray." He let out a derisive laugh when he realized what he'd said. "If not for you, no one would have known I was gone." His hands clenched into fists at his side. "It's time to make this right."

Ethan set off towards Willis, resentment evident in his movements. His incense vibrating off of him, causing Melinda's car door to slam closed behind her.

Willis looked up at the sound right before the trunk slammed shut in front of his face.

Shocked and frightened at having Willis' full attention, Melinda stood silently for a moment, deciding what to do next.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" Willis broke the silence first.

"Ray Willis?"

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"My name is Melinda Gordon. Ethan brought me here."

Willis' eyes widened. He looked down at the tarp and took a step back. "I think I knew he was here. He's been with me…ever since….I've felt him." His gaze never left the tarp as he spoke.

Melinda realized that Ethan's spirit must have been with Willis when he wasn't trying to communicate with her. He was feeding off of Willis' anxiety, gaining strength from his mounting guilt and fear.

Ethan came up beside Melinda. "Ask him for me why he did it. Why did he kill me?"

Melinda dreaded asking the next question, not knowing if it would set Willis off or not, but if she was going to cross over Ethan….

"Why did you kill him, Ray?"

Willis scrubbed a hand across his face, not making eye contact.

"When I found out our business couldn't be saved, I flipped out, alright? It was my fault all that money went missing. Ethan trusted me and I let him down. Let both of us down," he moaned.

Seemingly relieved that he could admit all of this to someone, Willis rambled on.

"I knew Ethan didn't want to sell, but I convinced him it was for the best so he'd go along with it and I could get the money back before he noticed." Willis glanced back down at the tarp. "I think he already knew what I'd done," he whispered before speaking to Melinda again.

"He confronted me about it. Told me he could help, but I thought he was the reason Pitzer wouldn't buy. I thought he'd gone behind my back…but he was only trying to help, wasn't he? I can't believe I did this!" Willis was becoming hysterical now. "I didn't mean to kill Ethan, it just happened. I was so angry!"

Melinda interjected before he could get worked up any further.

"Ray, Ethan is here with us now. I can help you if you'll let me."

Willis' disturbed eyes burned into Melinda. She involuntarily took a step back, sensing his fear and anger. The two powerful emotions mixing together until she could feel the resulting panic rising off of him in waves, advancing toward her; advancing the way Willis was physically moving towards her now.

"You should leave now," Ethan said to her. "The police are on their way, I left a map of our destination for your husband to find, but you need to go. He's out of control, I had no idea…"

Melinda turned to run for her car before Willis could come any closer. Yanking on the door handle, it wouldn't budge. The keys had been locked inside when Ethan's energy had slammed the door shut.

Turning to see Willis advancing, Melinda darted to the side, desperate to stay out of his reach.

"I can't let you tell anyone!" Willis gritted out irately through clenched teeth. "I didn't mean to, I can't go down for this!"

Melinda screamed when his fingertips grazed across her back in an attempt to take hold of her.

"Run! Help will be here soon." Melinda barely heard Ethan, fear gripping her, obscuring her thoughts until she could only focus on escape.

She heard Willis cry out and turned to see him on the ground, tripped up by Ethan who was attempting to buy Melinda some time. She ran further into the trees bordering the road, slowing only when the burning in her lungs and the pounding in her head became too much.

Melinda propped herself up against a tree. She felt groggy, as if there was cotton in her head. Taking deep, calming breaths through her mouth since her sinuses were still blocked, Melinda took in her surroundings.

She could hear police sirens approaching quickly, but she wasn't sure how soon they'd arrive, and she wasn't sure how close Willis was. He could still be sprawled on the ground thanks to Ethan, he could be running from the sirens, or he could be lurking just out of sight behind a tree.

A shiver ran through Melinda. She thought she knew the way to the road, but she wasn't sure how far it was. If she had gotten turned around, she would just be wandering further into the woods.

She decided to make her way to where she could see the most light filtering down through the treetops, deciding she'd wait there until she heard signs that the police were closer. Besides, she couldn't be too far from her car and the road…she hadn't run _that _far….

* * *

Finally feeling as if she'd caught her breath, Melinda began pacing within the clearing, relieved when she heard the police sirens come to a stop, indicating the direction of the road and the direction in which Melinda began to walk.

Rounding a large, mossy tree trunk, Melinda let out a small scream when she collided with somebody.

She resisted the grip they had on her arms until she realized who it was, their voice causing instant relief to flood through her.

"Jim! You have no idea how glad I am to see you," she said breathlessly, flinging her arms around his neck.

"Me too, sweetheart." He pulled back and looked her over for injuries. "Are you alright? What happened? Who was that guy the police arrested?"

"He was arrested?"

"Mel, he was found standing over a dead body. They cuffed him."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "At least his capture went smoothly. I mean, besides the part where I was practically shoved out of my house by a pushy ghost and found myself face-to-face with his murderer who attempted to attack me--but I promise I'll explain everything and I'm sorry I worried you." She said all of this in one breath, adding the last part when Jim gave her a stern look after hearing what had happened.

Jim considered her for a minute before speaking. "As long as you're alright, that's all that matters." He placed a kiss on the corner of her mouth, the tip of her nose, and her forehead. "You've still got a fever," he frowned. "Come on, time to go."

Melinda let him wrap a protective arm around her shoulders and turn her around for the walk back to their cars.

"Gah!"

"What?!" Jim looked around for the source of her scare as Melinda clutched at her heart.

"Don't _do_ that," she admonished, furrowing her brow while Ethan chuckled to himself.

"Sorry," he said sincerely. "Shouldn't you be used to that by now, though?"

"You'd think."

Melinda placed her hand on Jim's arm, letting him know everything was fine.

Turning her attention back to Ethan she said, "you know it wasn't your fault, right? What happened with your business. You weren't to blame for Ray losing all that money."

"I know that. I just needed to see him get help. I realize now that this wasn't for revenge, it was for peace of mind. I needed to know that he'd get help before he hurt someone else. I'm sorry that someone was almost you."

Melinda gave him a kind smile. "Do you see the light?"

"Yeah, I saw it back at the car when the police arrived. I just wanted to say thanks. Thanks for what you did. For what you do."

"You're welcome."

"'Bye now." Turning, Ethan Foster walked forward until the light, unseen by Melinda, welcomed him.

She squeezed Jim's arm in satisfaction. "Come on, time to go," she said, smiling.


	7. Chapter 7

Melinda inhaled the aroma of warm, steaming chicken noodle soup. Arranging the oyster crackers on the plate, she headed upstairs. She had to admit, soup really did do wonders for a cold.

Setting the food on the bedside table, she looked over at Jim who was sprawled out in their bed, looking adorable with a red nose.

"Ugh, not more soup!"

Melinda laughed and sat down next to him on the bed. "I faintly remember someone singing the praises of soup only a few short days ago."

"That wasn't meant to apply to me."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," he said as he reached over and pulled Melinda down into the blankets, tickling her ribs mercilessly, smiling at the sound of her laughter.

When Jim finally stopped his playful torture to wrap his arms around her, Melinda sat up, gasping for air.

"You know the best part about being sick?" Jim asked, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

Melinda brushed his dark, shaggy hair away from his forehead. "What's that?"

"Getting to spend all my time in bed…with you."

Melinda laughed. "You're going to milk this for all it's worth, aren't you?"

Jim answered her with another kiss.

A sigh of contentment slipped past Melinda's lips. Whatever challenges she might face in life, moments like this made it all worth while.

_**Thank you to everyone who reviewed! I truly enjoy hearing from you.**_


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